bon mots, gallimaufry, and coloratura macabrely

Ron Larson ~ Blanks

One dark night, a man was walking down street
When he met a young woman much given to grief.
Her face was hidden by a sleeve, but he had ears.
Her sobs were so pitiful that they brought tears.

So moved, he asked: “Please, what can I do for you?
I want to help you, please tell me what to do.”
When she lowered her arm, he then realized
That the slim young lady had no mouth, nose or eyes.

This well-meaning young man screamed and ran away.
On and on he raced, so great was his dismay.
Soon he met an old man in that near black night.
They chatted, and that almost relieved his fright.

The young guy told the old fellow what he’d seen,
And what followed was a familiar bad dream.
A Bic flicked, and the youth again shook a leg.
That’s because the old man had a face like an egg.

Ron Larsonis a retired community college history professor (Ph.D.), and on of his hobbies is writing poetry in the manner of Gerald Manley Hopkins. Larson has had horror poems published in The Stray Branch, Big Pulp, The Horror Zine, Aphelion, Bloodbond, Blood Moon Rising, Hellfire Crossroads 6, and, of course, Danse Macabre. Email: patronlarson@gmail.com. Website: ronlarsonclassics.com.